history
by growcheekatt
Summary: Envy is sent to check up on a lead as to the whereabouts of Hohenheim, to discover the man has a new family


(There he is…) the voice floated through his head like a fragile snowflake in a breeze. Envy wanted to ignore it, but despite its frailty, it rang through his ears as if it had been spoken aloud by a physical entity. He peered through the window, which he was standing squarely in front of. At first, he had meant only to watch the house from a distance, and under the guise of one of the neighbors. But after a while, curiosity had gotten the better of the boy, and he found himself wandering closer, and closer to the window that held the moving figure. He had wanted to be sure, that's all. It had in no way been out of any need to see That Man. (Daddy) That voice had insisted on calling Him, in a hopeful whisper. Had it had a body, Envy supposed it would have been clinging to something pathetically. But as his eyes focused on the shuffling shadow, he became sure. Because in the house, through the window, he saw him. Hohenheim. (Daddy!) He was staring at some obscure picture on a mantle, staring in the opposite direction of Envy, facing a wall on the far side of the room. And giving the boy a less than perfect view of his back. But despite the foggy winter morning glass, despite his face being turned away from him, even despite the fact that he had never actually seen the man to begin with. This voice. Which often lingered in the farthest lonely reaches of his mind. Which he had learned to block out many, many years ago. Which had grown soft and distant over time, had become loud and clear over the past two days. And it was telling him now (there He is…There's our Dad.)

No, this man, this "Hohenheim Elric" as he now called himself, was not his father. He was the mission. And Envy had completed the mission. Seek him out, establish it was indeed the fabled alchemist, and report back to Dante with the news. Yes, all he had left to do now was to return to Dante, and yet… he was still here, watching the bastard through his window. Almost wishing he would turn around, almost wishing (we could start over…) suggested that damn nagging voice. (Maybe he'd welcome us, maybe he missed us… He IS our Daddy, he might have been thinking about us just as much as we-) Envy shook his head violently enough to give himself a headache. He wanted to slam his head into the glass, and force the voice to come bleeding out. But that would attract attention he couldn't afford to receive. He had to go. Besides, even if the man somehow did harbor some sort of, attachment to him, he wouldn't recognize him now, not in this form anyhow.

(Well then, go back to the one he WILL recognize…) came the voice again, and even as it spoke , he felt that electric white spark move down him, melting away the dark pale body he had constructed for himself some time ago. And in its place stood another, which was lanky, sickly, almost paler than the first. One that appeared younger, though it was, in reality, much older. Pale straw colored hair fell over the pallid skin of his face, and from under their ghostly tangles stared big, round, golden eyes. Which held no spark of life in them. This was the body that belonged to the voice in his head, Not to him. So why had he done that? He had to go he had to…wait… who was that?

That woman, who just walked into the room with Him (Daddy), who looked so comfortable and fitting, as though she belonged there in His (Dads) house. She wore her long brown hair in a ponytail, draped over one shoulder, and an apron. And in her arms lied a squirming little bundle. She stopped next to Hohenheim and they smiled at each other. She said something, held the bundle closer to her, and the two of them shared a laugh. The scene Envy bore witness to through the window looked like many he had seen depicted in family portraits. But, that couldn't be right could it? He brought up old thoughts of what he had always imagined Him to be like. The pictures he had envisioned had run something along the lines of encountering Hohenheim homeless, alone in the streets, after all, when one has been living in the same body for the past four hundred plus years, one couldn't afford to make too many companions. Couldn't afford to take up root in any one town and get comfortable, couldn't hold onto any one job too long, for doing so would b an undesired, and dangerous risk. Right? He had always imagined the man would be wandering through his lonely life like a ghost does through an empty old house. He had imagined this Hohenheim to be living out a life of brutal loneliness. After all, Dante had always had him, and her pursuit of That Man to keep her going. And what had He?

But THIS scene completely destroyed all his previous images of a pitiable old fool who had damned himself to a life of eternal wandering. This scene was that of a happy man, woman, and child, in a perfect little house, on a perfect little hill.

(Maybe she's the maid…) yeah…maybe, that made sense, after all, that… thing, that pink thing in the blanket with a brown tuft of hair sprouting from it's fat pink head, looked nothing like Him in the first place, but she's… wait. Did she just kiss him?

(No! No she's just whispering something in his ear… that wasn't a kiss. Don't be silly…) came the young boys voice again. But considerably less vindictive, it sounded on the edge of panic. Something about the way That (Daddy) Man was so friendly with That Woman, the way they giggled and shared secretive smiles. The way they coddled that… that thing in that bundle in her arms. It made him nervous.

And in tottered another one. Not a woman, a boy, a little boy, hardly old enough to walk. And it looked exactly like the older man in said room. It stopped at the woman's leg and reached up, tugging on her dress. Its lips formed letters. Letters that looked oddly like M-O-M-M-Y. (No, you saw wrong…) came the voice. Higher. Slightly frantic.

(He's still our Daddy… he's still Dad-) No… he's not my dad. He never WAS my Dad.

(He's our Dad, if you would just go there and-) walk up to that woman, and say "hi I'm your husbands four hundred-year-old son from his last marriage?

(That's not his wife) Oh don't lie to yourself, that's his wife, and that thing in her arms, and the other one at her feet? Those are his children.

(No! No they're NOT!) It looks exactly like he does.

(It's just a coincidence! It couldn't be, he loved us! He…he…)

"He replaced us…" came the malice filled hiss through dull gritted teeth. And at that moment, the man twitched, and turned to look out the very window Envy had been using to look in on that lovely family moment. And gold misty eyes, framed by blond hair stared back at him. He quirked an eyebrow at his reflection in the glass, stared out at the world beyond his image. It was cold, and still rather dark and uninviting by the looks of it. A perfect contrast to the bright, warm living room he stood in at the moment. Trisha Elric stared up at him with some confusion. Then followed his gaze out the window. There was nothing. "What is it dear?" she said in her sweet voice, equal to the chorus of angels.

"I… I thought I heard something outside…" he muttered calmly. And wandered slowly over to look out, and make sure it was only his paranoia. Indeed there was nothing in any direction as far as the eye could see. Trisha stepped up to his side. And their son Edward plodded alongside her. She sat a comforting hand on his shoulder. Blue eyes looked up at gold ones as she awaited his expert verdict.

"It was nothing… I must have imagined it…" he insisted, smiling comfortingly at his treasured wife and sons. All of which returned said smile, though the smile of the infant Alphonse could have been chalked up to baby gas. As all childhood happiness seemed to be. Hohenheim gave the drapes a tug and they fell across the glass and the world outside that small cozy living room was cut off from them.

While less than a foot away, pressed flat against the outside of the wall, cringing just beneath the window ledge, peered two round orbs. Watching. Waiting. If That Man had decided to open the window, if he had inched his nose out through the pane only a tiny bit, his cover would have been blown. He would have been caught.

Well?

…

There was a mental silence; a peace that Envy hadn't had the luxury of since Dante sent him on this damned mission. The voice of that little boy, that being that had crawled up from the depths of his mind, past all the many mental barriers he had set up was no longer tormenting him. Its tiny hopeful voice, full of childish stupidity was gone now. And Envy was alone in his head. With nothing but him, and what seemed like a vast wasteland of nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company.

Well? Haven't you got anything to say? Don't you want to go in there and say hi to your sweet "Daddy"? Hug his new wife, who isn't even one-tenth your age, and call her mommy? Sit and drink cocoa with his NEW brats? Have a nice heart warming reunion with him, "Hey! I've been looking for you for the last four hundred years, where were you? I can tell by the nice house, wife, and children you have acquired you have obviously been getting no rest in your search for me as well."

…

There was no response. No feeble attempt to make an excuse for That Man, no childish denial. Just what felt to him like the loud echoing of his own thoughts off of the walls of the room in his head. And he realized, with some burning indignation, he had only been vainly attempting to torment himself. That second voice of a boy long dead did not really exist.

So he crawled to the side of the window and climbed to his feet, with a quick limbering stretch to the body he hadn't been in in many a century. And looked off to the direction he should be headed in now, with some hesitation, before drawing his eyes right back to the little White House beside him. He ran his fingers over the icy wooden framing, and stared at the stark white wall. Straining his eyes, as if in attempt to see through it. Perhaps the voice hadn't been completely foolish? Maybe if he could possibly lure That Man out here alone, where they could talk privately, away from his family, he could…

(You could what?) Came a new voice. One that hissed through sharp metaphorical teeth like a snake.

Nothing.

(No, tell me, what would you talk to him about? Would you explain to him that you came back and how you would like to be accepted by the man who you were of the most use to once you were dead? That you could forgive him for using you as an experiment? Explain how your perfectly willing to come back and let him finish his study on you, and let him and his family poke you with scalpels and probes until he's satisfied his curiosity, then how you would be just fine with him disposing of you once again? You want to forgive him don't you?)

I'll never forgive him.

(No, I think you would like to give him a second chance wouldn't you? Because you're such a sweet son, it will make your Daddy happy to have his first Human transmutation experiment back in his greasy hands you know…after all he never did get to see the finished result of all his hard work)

That's never going to happen.

(Oh, so you don't want to give him a second chance, so could it be you want him to give YOU one then?)

I never did anything wrong!

(So it's all HIS fault then?)

Yes, all of it is HIS fault.

(So you truly do hate him then?)

I can't stand the thought of that bastard!

(Then why are you still here?)

It was his turn to fall silent. And the snake writhed and slithered about his brain, settling itself comfortably, a dark tendril snaking through, overshadowing, all of his thoughts. Envy couldn't begin to form a thought that could defy its logic. So he walked, he walked away from the house, one rickety step at a time, feeling as though his joints were all covered in layers of rust that kept them from working properly. And after a few steps, he felt the long black snake curve its mouth up in a wicked ominous grin. It was going to say something, and furthermore, it was going to say something he would by no means want to hear. He walked faster.

(It hurts doesn't it?)

I don't know what you're talking about. I never liked That Man. I could care less about-

(Even if that WERE the case-) came a pleasured hiss (which I know it isn't… still, it bothers you doesn't it?)

I don't know wha-

(Don't play dumb, you know what I mean. It's been four hundred years. Not four not even forty, but four HUNdred. And there has not passed a single day of it where you have had peace over that man. His image is burned into your vision whenever your eyes are closed. I know, I've seen it too. Your thoughts, your hatred of him controls your every move. You can't tell me that didn't hurt. Seeing that he's been able to move on. Knowing he's forgotten you, and for some time now if he's managed to have two more kids. He doesn't even remember the first son. No, because you never mattered. NEVER. Not then, back when you were alive and sure as hell not now. And you saw those kids. The way he smiled at them, The love in his eyes. He never looked at you that way did he?)

….

(DID HE?) Yelled the voice, and a painful twinge occurred in Envy's brain that caused him to whimper. He scrunched his eyes closed, but then he was only greeted by the face of That Man. Staring lovingly at his two sons, and his wife, as a long black snake coiled lazily over his shoulders. It cackled.

(All the time you were imagining wringing his neck, while in this form you're in now no less, in the body of his offspring, so he could see his son, and remember everything before he died. And you haven't crossed his mind once have you? I bet if you turned around and walked through his front door like this right now he STILL wouldn't know who you were!) There was laughing. And it stung his head, the laughter sent sharp pains through his skull, and whether it was truly physical or just his pride that was hurt he couldn't tell, nor could he care one way or the other. He wiped his nose and with another flash of light, returned to his favorite form. But this caused the snake to only laugh harder. And the sharp pains shooting up the back of his skull with every rusty, forced step seemed to increase for a while, and then it twisted, coiled in on itself, and fell, landing with a spiritual thud in his chest. Where it tightened itself around his heart, and though said muscle was indeed unnecessary in its ongoing futile attempt to pump unneeded oxygen to dead body tissue with cold useless blood, it still was the source of some great pain when it cramped and seized up. As though that thing, the snake had reached down and coiled around it, constricting said organ and with each shallow beat, forced it to collapse in on itself a little more.

Envy stumbled forward another step or two, carried forward only buy his momentum. Then he fell to his knees in the cold icy grass. His hand sliding up to his chest, and fingers knotting up against his ribcage as he swayed dizzily on That Mans front lawn. That evil cackling in his head worsened as he dug his nails into his own flesh, wishing he might be able to break into his own chest cavity and rip from it the offending muscle, which caused his own body to betray him. And the cackling was the last cognitive thought that traced its way its way through the swampy waters of his mind, before blackness leaked into everything and the world was blotted out.

And the next real thing he became aware of was just how… cozy… everything felt to him. He was warm, or, he was some warm place, as usual, his lifeless body still emanated the same cold feeling as any other dead body would. His hand twitched and his fingers wrapped around the warm soft thing that covered him. It was a blanket. And below whim was more softness… he was in a bed. And it did not feel right to him. At least, after all the many years of sleepless (As he didn't need sleep) nights in Dante's cold empty manor, he had become accustomed to the cold hard feel of the rough wooden floor at the bottom of the extensive stairs. And this new feeling, of sinking into a big soft mattress with his head nestled into a pillow and a blanket tucked in around his sides, felt very unusual, and wrong to him. After a few seconds of rustling and twitching about it occurred to him that he was actually somewhere new. And to pass out in one place, and wake up in another, meant he would have to have moved. And BEING in a state of unconsciousness, would have rendered him unable to move himself, therefore, someone had moved him here. He had been discovered.

His shallow breath caught in his throat as he heard a door open. Shut. Floorboards creaked as light steps were taken across the room. And there was a thunk and a slosh as something was sat on a hard surface near his head. A body settled next to him, causing the mattress to sink in a bit. The body wasn't large, and it was pleasantly warm. It reached up past the sins head, and, with some more gentle sloshing, pulled something from the container. When a warm wet thing pressed against the side of his face, Envy sprung from the bed and took a defensive stance several feet away. Teeth bared like a cornered animal in the wild. On the bed sat That Woman. Eyes wide with surprise, hand suspended over the place Envy's head had been less than a second ago, in it a wet cloth, now dripping onto the pillow. He took note by the expressions on her face that it took her a moment to realize he had moved, and another to realize he had moved FAST. She smiled and put the cloth back into a steaming basin of water, which sat on a bedside dresser adjacent to the pillow.

"I'm sorry I frightened you." She said softly, the look in her eyes that of genuine apology. She drew her hands back to her lap and tangled her fingers together in a proper little knot.

"My son, he was outside and he found you lying there in the grass. And when I came over…" her face became that of a fretful mother.

"You were so cold, I had thought you were dead, but you had a pulse," she tapped her wrist with her forefinger "and we brought you back inside to warm up a bit." Envy allowed his muscles to relax, let the tension seep into the floor. She wasn't any kind of direct threat. But he had to leave. He had to get back to Dante and tell her about everything he had seen here.

(Dante)

Dante. What did this woman have that had convinced Him to stay with her? He found himself looking her over. Sizing her up, staring at her with a rather disappointed scowl on his face. She looked away from him nervously, sliding her hair from her face with a slender finger and taking a settling breath before she looked back at him and stood, rather fidgety under his obvious scrutiny. She wrapped her apron around in a tense knot and smiled.

"My name is Trisha Elric, and my… my family and I live in the house you collapsed next to." She said with a nervous laugh, and awaited an introduction from the other. One he made apparent she wasn't going to get. She let out a nervous cough. And glanced away again. His piercing judgmental eyes made it difficult to just stand under his gaze much less meet it. She felt as though she had done something terribly wrong to the boy. Though she'd swear on her life she had never so much as seen him before his frightful discovery this morning. And considering his odd dress, pale skin, and logic defying hair, she probably would have recognized him had she ever come across him before.

"We made oatmeal and pancakes not too long ago, everyone's eating in the kitchen now and we'd love for you to join us." She moved briskly past him to open the door, though it felt more like she was moving under him, under his cold hard eyes. And she noted as she moved past him, how he seemed to radiate cold. Even though he had been lying under the blankets in this warm house for a bout half an hour, and the heater made sure their home was just the right temperature in every room, the air surrounding him was cold and stale.

She moved away from him quickly and escaped through the door, which she left open, should the boy choose to come eat. Though she felt he wouldn't. As cruel as she felt for thinking it, that boy did not belong in this house. His presence reeked of death and coldness. And it threw a shadow over her home, which she had always worked to keep warm and happy for her boys.

Trisha Elric let out a deep breath she had been holding in once she made her way across the living room to the kitchen door. That room, it had been shrouded by his presence. And changed it from her firstborns bedroom, where he played with her on the afternoons it was to cold or too hot to go outside and do so, to a cell. Choked off from the rest of the house. Filled with tension and apprehension. It may have been silly, but she felt so relieved when she saw her baby boy sitting at the table in the kitchen shoveling messy spoonfuls of oatmeal in his already full mouth. She laughed sweetly and swept over the floor, taking his napkin off the table to wipe the boys mouth with. Moments later in wandered her large and almost awkward looking husband, holding her youngest, Alphonse, in one arm, and a bottle of baby formula in the other. He stood next to her and smiled brightly. "How is our guest doing?" he inquired. To which Trisha only chuckled tensely. She would like to know that herself; the boy hadn't uttered a sound in the time she had been in the room. The woman took the baby from Hohenheim, and ushered him to a seat next to Ed. who had already occupied himself with his pancakes.

(Look at them.)

I see them.

(Don't they look happy together? So peaceful? They don't want you here. She may have invited you in for breakfast, but she really wanted you to leave. You could see it on her face as clear as I could.)

No matter, I was just leaving anyway.

(Leave?) Cried the snake in alarm. (Why would you leave now? Just give that whore what she wants so easily? Don't you at least want to see what He left you for? See his perfect family in action? See just what standard it was you couldn't meet that left you as less than human in his eyes?)

What would it matter? I DID the mission. I should go-

(You should kill them. ALL of them. RIGHT NOW spread their insides all over the floor in front of him. See if he still loves THEM after THEY'VE become pulsing, mucus covered, blood spewing, pain afflicted creatures bleeding bile out their arses, the way YOU once were. Turn them into the things he had turned YOU into. Even the scoreboards out a little and make it a fair competition you know?)

That would be nice.

(It WOULD be nice. Especially with the little one. That DISGUSTING little monster elbow deep in syrup. His NEW oldest. He probably thinks of it as his firstborn you know.)

Disgusting.

(And its your replacement. Its what made him forget all about you. I don't see how it could have erased you from His mind though; the two of you look just alike. He SHOULD be thinking about you more than ever. Maybe you just meant that little to him. Or maybe your replacement just means that much…)

That's not true, don't compare me to THAT thing.

(Oh but it's true! I mean, sure there are some slight differences, like how that thing isn't nearly as sickly as you used to look. That one looks healthy, they must take GOOD care of it for it to be so healthy like that.)

I never looked anything like That.

(You're right. It's cuter than you were. Maybe that's why He-)

It's not cuter than me. Envy almost growled, noting the snake tended to contradict itself, as long as it made him angry it seemed happy.

(Then what could it be? What did that NASTY LITTLE WORM over there do to make Him love it that you never did?)

I did everything I could.

(Well there must have been SOMETHING)

What?

(Find out)

Fine, if it'll shut you up.

Trisha Elric looked up with some surprise as the boy swung the door open, and watched as he sauntered inside. His bare feet making little noise on their wood floor. He plopped into the chair set up at the far end of the table, and wrapped his fingers around the handle of the spoon sitting beside his bowl of steaming oatmeal. The he didn't move for a moment, just hung his head, face scrunched up as if he was in a state of extreme annoyance. And not until his eyes cut in her direction, meeting her with a violet flash of silent anger, did she realize she had been blatantly staring at him. She hoped her face didn't reveal her thoughts. (What is he DOING still here? I thought he'd leave) Ed stopped eating and stared at the newcomer with childish excitement. Hohenheim greeted him with a smile. "Hello there! Nice to see you're up! My wife and I were worried there for a while. Almost called the doctor on you. Are you feeling okay then?"

The boy closed his eyes again, as if trying to restrain himself from saying something. And settled for stabbing the bowl with his spoon and shoving an obscene amount of oatmeal in his mouth. They watched him, as he seemed surprised by the taste, and struggled to get it down.

It's sweet.

(That's the brown sugar. You used to love it long ago.)

It's disgusting.

(It's warm, and it's actually really good. She certainly can COOK better than Dante ever could.)

I'd vomit it up if I could.

(I'm sure you would.)

No wonder I never bothered eating before. It's sickening.

(You don't get sick, so don't lie)

They're staring.

(Of course they're staring. Look at you. You don't exactly fit in here and you know it. You knew it when you woke up in that bed. You don't belong here.)

"So…" said That Man, leaning over to That Woman. "Does she speak?" Envy felt the spoon in his fist bend under his tight grip. "She?" He stared up at Him.

"She!"

(Heh)

"Dear, that… that's a boy." That Woman insisted through gritted smile. He coughed and his ears reddened a bit when he looked back at Envy. "Ah… my apologies sir." He said bashfully. Envy pushed the bowl of oatmeal away from him in disgust. If he took one more bite he swore he'd puke. And certainly the contents of a 400-year-old stomach would not look so good coming back up.

She stood up quickly when he did this, and quickly came over to his side to remove the bowl from his presence. Using one hand as she juggled the Fat Pink Thing in the other arm. "I'm sorry. You must not like oatmeal. Here, you can have some pancakes though, hopefully they're more to your tastes…" she said, tending to the task of loading pancakes onto another plate. Envy hadn't really expected her to behave this way.

(She's considerate ne?)

She's a bitch.

(She's only trying to make you feel comfortable.)

She wants me out of her house. She wants to get me fed and get me out. Stupid little bitch.

(She never asked you to leave)

She thought it though.

Envy's eyes slid from The Woman's back, to Him. He was leaning over the little one with a smile as It held out its fork and demanded "Choo-Choo!" spitting pancake everywhere. The man smiled, and Envy recalled some memory from a distant past.

A small blond boy sat alone at the kitchen table tucked into one corner of the long, empty room. It was a rather eerie scene, like something out of a suspense movie, his pale blond hair contrasting greatly in the shadowy darkness of the stale kitchen. He picked pettily at the lump of bread his mother had sat out for him. He was small, and too young to know much of anything as to the ways of the world, and the way things should be, Therefore he was too young to know that a child should not be left alone as much as he was, left to fend for himself in a cold house full of dangerous chemicals and hazardous materials and the occasional wandering hungry rat. But still, loneliness huddled in the pit of his chest, nagged at him. Made him wish there was something, was someone here, next to him.

The kitchen was cold, hard, and bare except for a rat sitting on the corner of the table, watching him, as if decided whether it would rather take a bite out of the bread or the boy. And he stared right back at it, balancing the wooden stool he sat on precariously on one leg. This is what he did in the morning. It was how a six-year-old with no toys, no friends, and no imagination to speak of passed his time. Besides wishing for someone to play with that is. He chewed on stale bread.

And as if in answer to the boys' silent wishes, here came someone! Walking briskly through the room, past the corner he sat in, not even noticing he was there, and over to the counter on the adjoining wall. It was him!

"Daddy!" he called, three wooden legs hit the floor and two small bare feet after them. They padded along the floor swiftly. Running to greet their "Daddy! G'morning Daddy!" he cried, flinging his arms around Hohenheim's leg. Hohenheim looked down at him with some surprise. Eyebrow cocked, jaw slightly ajar. "Well… good morning... you're up early." He said, peering out the window at the still dark sky. The red hues of morning had not even begun to touch its edges. It couldn't be much later than four a.m.

"Uh-huh. I always wake up now Daddy. But you're always in your room and momma said…" he paused, searching for what exactly it was momma had said. "Momma said it's unforgivable to be dis-… disturbed when you're working. So I'm not allowed to go in your room." His young tongue stumbled over the big words, but he was proud that he had been able to say them at all. Considering he didn't speak much at all, and why would he? He had no one to talk to. Hohenheim nodded and reached for another loaf of plain bread.

"Daddy will you stay with me? I want-" Hohenheim scratched the top of the boys head absently as he pulled him off of his leg. "Go eat your breakfast." He said, his tone not unpleasant, not demanding, but very final. And he walked back out the door. Leaving the boy alone once again.

This memory came and was gone again in less than a second. Envy's muscles tensed and his teeth ground together as he watched them. And to Envy's disdain That Man leaned down and took the fork from It, picked up a portion of Its pancake, and made "Choo-choo" noises as he fed it to him.

The Bastard. He was really feeding It. He couldn't have gotten Him to spend ten straight minutes in the same room as him when he had been Its age. And he certainly hadn't been as disgusting as THIS fat sticky spoiled little worm.

(He's cute, and it's sweet.)

It's bloated, sticky, loud, and obnoxious.

(You're jealous Envy) it laughed.

Envy wished he could stab it. Wished he could force a hot skillet down Its throat. See if it wanted to play "Choo-choo" then.

Trisha turned to put the plate of pancakes in front of the boy at the table, but stopped when she saw the way he stared at her son. The look he gave Ed, it was full of so much hate. So much bitter vice, it looked as if the boy was liable to jump out of his seat and stab him at any given moment. She moved briskly toward the boy and dropped the plate onto the table. It made such a clatter when it hit that wooden surface the boy jumped, and fixed his glare on her again. The evil look almost choked the air from her lungs, but if that was all he was going to do let him. She'd rather the source of whatever anger he possessed in him was her than her innocent son.

"Would you like some milk?" she said through gritted teeth. He said nothing, but fingered sticky syrup and butter that had splattered over the front of him, then glared at her again. Her face flushed with embarrassment, she hadn't meant to make a mess, and almost immediatley her civil nature forced her to apologize. "Oh my goo- I'm sorry, here just le-" she reached toward him with a napkin, and again he sprung from his seat, teeth bore maliciously, fingers gnarled like claws. She cringed back a little bit.

"I-I'm sorry… the bathrooms right down the hall, you can clean off there if you want." She murmured, tucking her chin into her chest akwardly. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. Then glanced around, realizing his defensive reaction to her simple attempts to aide him had gained him some odd looks from two of the three other males in the room. He sighed, then turned and left the room. Hohenheim gave Trisha a concerned look. "What was that about?" he said with a smile, trying to pass it off as light conversation. But Trisha could see right through her husband, this newcomer unnerved him as much as he had her. She sighed and shook her head, then shrugged, moving Alphonse over into her other arm. The baby still hadn't cried or become disturbed at all. And as she smiled and tickled his chin, she wondered if he would be as docile a man as he was a child.

Envy scrubbed furiously at the butter and syrup on his stomach. He COULD have just shifted himself clean, true, but he wasn't too sure if they would see the flash of light from the kitchen. And he had no doubt That Man would know if any alchemic reactions were to occur in his direct vicinity.

Beside that fact, scrubbing the disgusting sticky sugary confection away by hand gave him an odd satisfaction. He recalled That Woman attempting to wipe it off him herself and shivered in disdain. The thought of Her touching him made his flesh crawl. And he wondered absently if That Man was ever disgusted with himself for having children with her. After all, it was basically pedophilia. She wasn't even one-tenth His age. A mere child by his own standards. And while on the subject, did she know she had been impregnated by a rotting corpse in motion? Or at least it's equivalent. He laughed. She had to know, and she still… wow that's nasty. He had to fight the urge to projectile vomit all over the sink. Humans certainly were prone to-

"Hi!"

Envy jumped and whirled about. He hadn't heard anyone come in; but then again, he HAD left the door open.

"Hi!" it came again.

Envy looked down.

And there was that fat nasty worm, covered in pancake, syrup, and other mess Envy had no desire to specify mentally. He scowled and turned back to the mirror. Just seeing it stand there, looking so happy and

(Warm, cuddly, full of life and love and promise for the future?)

Shut up

Seemed to set an enormous nauseating weight in the pit of his stomach. That thing, It symbolized everything Envy hated. Managed to broil up all of his negative emotions (and there were a LOT of those to go around, no need to stir them up thank you) that he would even refuse to admit to himself about having. Anger, jealousy, hatred, yes of course, but also insecurity, inadequacy, and some deep dark fear. It was everything he couldn't be, the son He had always wanted. Envy never could, or would, be as good as him. No matter who he killed, no matter what form he took. Yet to sit and wonder what exactly It had that he didn't would drive him mad. So he would have to settle for hating it for every day it walked this earth. Little worm. Little. Insignificant. Disgusting. Human. Worm.

It waddled in next to him, and grabbed his leg with a sticky fat little hand. "Hi I'm Ed! Who are you? Are you my mommies friend?" spat the worm. Envy jerked away and grimaced again, then immediately began scrubbing the place It had touched him. Unfortunately, the maggot didn't get the message. It toddled around him and climbed onto the toilet seat, so it could lean over and reach for the sink. Envy stared coldly as it stretched its little arms out for the running spout, balancing precariously on its toes at the edge of the porcelain toilet seat. It would be so easy to just nudge it in the tiniest bit and send it sprawling off-balance. Watch it slip, fall, and before it could even cry out in pain, crack its head open on the sink. Watch it bleed. And he felt the sudden urge to bath his fingers in its warm blood. But Envy wasn't even supposed to be here, he was supposed to have gone back to Dante without ever being discovered. And he had no plans on letting her know he had been… had been caught by these pathetic humans. Had been overcome by ridiculously human emotion. So killing his son would probably be a bad idea. Otherwise he wouldn't have hesitated for a second to split Its head open.

It shook its hands, then plopped onto its bottom on the toilet lid, kicking its feet in the air and watching him with those big gold eyes that sent chills down his spine.

"You're pretty!" it said excitedly.

Envy felt a growl form in the back of his throat.

"What's your name?"

"…"

"My name's Ed!" it repeated again. "And I'm a big brother! I gotsa brother his name is Al but he's just a baby" It blathered on, scooting off the toilet and drying its pudgy fingers on a towel hanging from a rack on the opposing wall. "He's not big like me so I have to watch him and make sure he doesn't get hurt that's what mom said and-"

"You're not big." The sin stated absently, wiping off the last of the syrup on his belly. He almost blushed, realizing just how poor an attempt at an insult that was. But it didn't take much to taunt a toddler.

"I AM big! Mommy said I'm a big boy!" It insisted, sticking out its chest and standing on its tiptoes. Envy snorted and rolled his eyes. "You are little. You must be the littlest person I have ever come across in my life. A little thing like you will never be able to do anything important, there's no way you could protect your brother." He said absently, looking down at it. "How old are you?"

"I'm almost s-"

"You're too old to be so small. Shrimp." Envy scoffed, with a look on his face as though he was insulted by Its shortness.

"I'm NOT a shrimp!" It whined.

"Squirt. Bean sprout. Brat. Baby. You could ride a flea like a horse you're so small. In fact I bet mice laugh at how little you are o'chibi chan."

"My name is Ed, NOT O-"

"Chibi chan chibi chan!" Envy snickered. Stupid brat. He turned and strolled out of the bathroom. It followed him, almost running to keep up with his long strides. But he ignored It. Or he tried to. The maggot kept insisting it wasn't short at all and it was a really good big brother and mice did NOT laugh at it. Envy flung the door to the room he had been in earlier open. It grabbed his shorts. He almost kicked it off, but just stared instead. Hoping his scowl would ward it away. It didn't.

"Hey! Why are you going in my room?" it said attempting a stern tone. "I'm leaving." He hissed, and jerked the thing off again, striding over the expanse of the room in three steps, and climbing onto the bed he had been lying in only minutes earlier. He jerked the window open, but It grabbed him again.

"When are you coming back? Are you gonna visit us again?" it asked, the worry of losing its new "friend" in its eyes. Envy growled and turned his head slowly to face it, and then he saw something that caught his attention. On the bedside table, next to the basin of now tepid water. It was a thermometer. A smile spread over his face, a smile that would send chills down most peoples spines.

He reached over and picked it up off the table, seating himself on the window ledge. Twirled it around his fingers. His smile broadened as it climbed onto the bed and stood next to him, holding onto his leg and nuzzling its chin in his lap. He ran his fingers through its hair and held the thermometer closer to his face.

(Wouldn't it be sweet.)

(To break it open, let it drip into your hand. It would feel so good wouldn't it?)

And without further thought, Envy twisted his grip on the plastic stick and with a SNAP; it was in two halves. That sweet mercury dripping into one hand as the other caressed the young boys' hair. He saw Its eyes widen as it watched the mercury turn into slippery silver balls in the palms of his hand.

(It would be so nice, so wonderful, such poetic justice to have That Mans favorite son die just the same way you did. Wouldn't it? Can you imagine the horror on his face as he watched his golden child grow sick, and die slowly in its bed? And this time he would be forced to take notice wouldn't he?)

"What're those?" it said curiously, looking up at Envy with those wide eyes.

"It's candy." Envy purred sweetly, smiling at it and tangling his fingers in the child's hair as though he were its mother.

"I don't believe you." It said with a suspicious pout, returning its eyes to the mysterious silver balls sliding around in his hand. And he watched with childish curiosity as Envy raised his hand to his lips and licked a small portion of it off his palm. He pooled it in his tongue for it to see. Then swallowed. You can't poison something that's already dead.

"See? Its good." He insisted, inching his hand closer to the boys' face. Ed looked at him suspiciously one last time before reaching his hand out to take the "candy".

"WHAT are you doing?" came a gruff, unhappy voice from the doorway. Envy snapped his attention from the young one at his side, and saw, there in the doorway, Him. With darkness, and anger… no, it was Fury on his face. It was almost refreshing, considering he had never seen the man portray any real emotion before. He loved the way that anger twisted his features, distorted them. The way the darkness gave him a frightening aura. It was like sweet nectar to him. Envy let the mercury roll about in his palm a second more, let That Man's sons hand dangle over it for a bit more. His smile split his face further. He was as the snake, offering that fabled forbidden fruit to Adam, as God watched from just out of reach. But he realized as The Man took a step forward, that would have to satiate him for now. Because it was DEFINATLEY time to go. Being as right now he had severely offended one of the few people in this world who had the power required to kill him. The man took another quick heavy step forward with a snarl on his lips. "WHAT are you doing with my SON?" he demanded.

"Dante sent me to check up on you Hohenheim." He hissed, letting the mercury fall from his hands onto the bed and pulling his legs over the windowsill, letting one rest outside the house. The Man froze in mid step, his eyes having grown wide. And his lips formed a silent stuttering "D-Dante?" Envy smirked and nodded, pulling the other leg out the window and turning his head from Him. "Well be in touch soon… Daddy…" he growled, and slid out the window, changing his form in a flash of light to that of an inconspicuous house cat and escaping through the tall uncut grass.

Hohenheim was silent in his house. Worry wreaked havoc over his features. His son ran his fingers through the mercury stain in his blanket, then waddled over to his father, intending to ask for more candy. But much to his surprise, his father grabbed him off the ground and wrapped him in a choking hug. The boy twitched and shrugged under the unintentional vice grip. "Edward… my son…" he sighed. Ed groaned. "Daddy? Put me down! You're gonna choke me to death!" he insisted in his whiny childish voice. The man held him for a moment longer, then sat his son back on the ground, taking Ed's tiny hand in his, and let the boy lead him back to the kitchen with his wife and other son.


End file.
